She awoke and the clock said 3am. She felt better, still a bit woozy, but better; still sick but getting better. The man seemed to have a doctor’s touch because usually when she got sick she was sick for at least three or four days. She could sense that this would not be the case this time.
The storm outside was raging and did so not only with the heavy snowfall but eerie thunder-claps. Who ever heard of thunder-claps in a snow storm? But it was case with this storm.

She got up and looked for his small bathroom in the dim light; had to go. Besides she was curious to see what he had in his medicine cabinet. She did not move immediately listening at first to see if there was any noise coming from outside the bedroom. It was very quiet. She wondered what he was doing out there.

She got up, noticing the cold in the room had increased and tip-toed over to the cracked bedroom door to get a look at what he was doing.

She could see he was at his computer, asleep. She could only see the back of his head but she was sure he was a tired man sleeping.

Now she could make her way to the bathroom more confident that he would not catch her rummaging through his medicine cabinet. The cabin was so bare, no photos, no pictures, nothing. The medicine cabinet was the best bet as to who this man was.

Creeping, yes creeping, she entered the small bathroom which was pretty bare in itself and headed right for the medicine cabinet like it was a treasure chest.

Opening it she saw there the usual items, shaving cream, razor, deodorant, but surprisingly, five plastic containers.

She looked over her shoulder to make sure he wasn’t creeping on her and started to look at what at first she thought were drugs. But no, they were vitamins; yes vitamins.  “Aha” she thought to herself what kinds of vitamins did this man take?

Her trolling revealed the following:

A box of vitamins labeled Anafranil. What the hell was that she thought. She looked at the inside drug information most drugs came with and found it was made in France and was a noo tropic, that is a drug designed to help you stay awake without any drug feeling or effect. “Taken by 50 million Frenchmen.” It was not a prescription drug and apparently freely available in Europe but had been successfully shut out of the American market by greedy drug companies. She would have to look that one up later. She decided it was a kind of no-doze for the French.

Next were run of the mill vitamins, some vitamin C but high dosage, some vitamin B, some D3, some RNA-DNA, some B12 and a few others.

This was the medicine chest of a writer she thought, all vitamins aiming to help with concentration.

Nothing else of note. He was clean.

She looked over her shoulder again and crept toward the cracked door to the fireplace to check on him.
She peered out to see he was still asleep.
Unable to resist she crept over to stand behind him, to get a look at what he was working on. After all who can resist a sub-title of “Non-Sex Love-Making for Newly-Weds”
”What the Ding-Dong” was that she wondered.

She reached over his shoulder from behind her finger gliding over and downward to the space bar which she knew might bring up what he was working on last.

She could smell his smell, that mixture of man, outdoors, faint cologne and wood-smoke.

Damn she thought, damn.

Her slight touch brought up the screen quietly and she began to read intensely interested in what chapter 21 had to say for itself.

It read:

“He took the palm of his hand and began to move it in slow circles just above the skin, but not touching the areola  but oh so close that she could feel the electricity jump the gap between his palm and her skin. She bent up to reach his touch but he moved slightly away, driving her crazy."

Suddenly a huge thunderclap shook the tiny cabin and he jerked awake and grabbed her hand.